Another Game of Tag: Nightfrost and Stef
by macDhai
Summary: Smut warning! GuyxGuy pairing w/mild to graphic sex. Much gentler than in Vendel'o Eranu Belore. Nightfrost comforts Stef after the dislocated arm mentioned in ch. 12 of Rogue Magick.
1. Chapter 1

**Another Game of Tag: Nightfrost and Stef**

**By Rillan macDhai**

Smut Warning! This is an AU story to Rogue Magick taking place in chapter 12: Differences, after Nightfrost talks with Richelle and Giselle and Stef shows up injured from a fight with the Defias. Basically guy x guy pairing with mild to graphic sex. If this offends you, please don't read my stuff. Yes, Blizzard still owns the setting, I own all the OCs.

Thanks to Nyxe for coming up with "samer" as a term for gay pairings. I don't know if its original to that writer, but that's where I saw it first.

I sure wish Blizzard would publish a cross-reference for Thalassian and Orcish to Common. And a decent timeline with how many years are between recent events. If anyone knows where I can find these, please drop me an email or mention it in a review.

This is a present for Awreel, because he/she wanted to see the pairing. Some of this is either paraphrased or direct from Chapter 12 of Rogue Magick, but I hope to get to the new smutty stuff quickly.

* * *

Our cast:

Stef, human, blue eyed, ash brown hair (not as light as Firesworn's bleaches to on the ends), around 5'5" - 5'7" (of a height with Nightfrost). I'm guessing he's in his late teens, early twenties

Sky Nightfrost, blood elf, blue eyed (makes him look like a high elf), black hair growing out to dark brown with rust overlay that will give him red highlights as it sun bleaches. Looks like he would be about the same age as Stef or a bit older, he was somewhere between 10 & 30 when the Sunwell exploded.

brief appearance by Giselle in the intro stuff

* * *

It was toward the end of the third week of our nightly runs and Stef and I had just collapsed after one of our more full-out games of rogues' tag. I was painfully regaining just the barest ability to call shadow, not even as much as a simple apprentice, just roughly equivalent to the blending hunters and any of my very distantly related night elf cousins might be able to do. It didn't hurt to do it, but I couldn't move and hold the magick without triggering headaches.

"You are getting better," Stef said.

I just nodded.

He rolled onto his side and lie there; close enough I could feel his body heat, just watching me. From one of my kin, I would have read it as invitation. With a human male, I wasn't sure, they seem very shy of samer pairings when not confined to prison. I decide to let him make the first move, if that was what he was contemplating.

He watched me, face a perfect poker mask until I was beginning to feel the chill of the night seeping into me. He must have felt it as well, for he stood, offering me a hand to pull myself up. He might have held my fingers a fraction overlong and his eyes never left my face, but if he was working himself up for something, his nerve must have failed. Or I was simply misreading things after weeks of frustration and months of abstinence. Allowing himself a very small smile, he let go and started back to town.

* * *

Richelle had been loud and when Giselle started asking me about who I wanted and what he looked like, I was fairly convinced the whole farm, if not the whole town had heard our conversation. I wondered what shade of red I still was when Stef dropped off the roof of the bathhouse looking like he'd just finished one of our rougher games of tag. One arm hung limp at his side and he was obviously in pain.

Giselle and I got him into the bathhouse while he told us about the Defias attack that had left him with a dislocated shoulder and most of his day team with the Healer. I got his shoulder back into joint and told him he was putting me on the guard rotation. I blamed it on my need to protect Giselle and while that was true, I was also worried about Stef and the rest of the team I was slowly getting to know. He accepted, which rather surprised me, and Giselle left to tell Grandmamma and Richelle. He was worried enough he told her to call one of the dogs, since he'd signed to me out of her sight that he wanted to talk. I nodded agreement, said something about helping Stef with his armor and watched her leave, two of the white pack roaming close to her.

Stef had began undoing the rest of his armor one-handed until I took over. "I'm not helpless, Sky."

"No, but you've done it for me often enough. And you wanted to talk?" He didn't keep protesting and seemed to relax a bit, on a physical level at least.

"You know Bobby Twoknives?" he asked.

"I see my letters went through more hands than the goblin post." I was annoyed, but Grandmamma had already looked at them. "Yes, I know Bobby, he was in prison with me."

"Two of the Alliance's most wanted and nobody recognized who you were? Should I drop by with a mana cake for Illidan?" he joked, but there was a tension in his voice more than just his need to keep moving after a kill could account for, though finding out Bobby was high on the Alliance's list of wanted men explained it. Partly.

"Maybe," I said, trying to keep things light. "There are a lot of people still rotting in those cells."

"Bobby's a wickedly murderous little bastard," said Stef, "but from all reports, he's always supported the Alliance, even when he was stiffing Stormwind's peerage. How'd you ever team up with him?"

"Not a clue. He just adopted Firesworn and I, once I got dropped in with them. Never explained why."

Stef gave a little yelp of unexpected pain as I helped him ease his shirt off. "So," he said once he wasn't wincing, "you've not specifically allied with the Defias?"

"So that's what this is about? Seriously, do you think I'd tell you?" I showed him my right hand, definitely lacking the Defias' cog tatoo. "Bobby's just a friend. We left faction politics and feuds out of it. Besides, from what he'd said, he'd been in the army in Northrend. He still has the tattoo, but I don't think he was being active before the cops nicked him."

"We haven't had any murders of the nobility that matched his style for a while," Stef said. He looked like he was still hurting and wanted to be moving, which could only be expected. I sympathized with his desire to burn out the stress, but he wasn't up to any more woods running.

"Could you dump a bucket of hot water over me?" he asked.

"Actually, we should be getting something cold on that, if you aren't going to the Healer."

"I know," he said, standing up. "I'm just nasty with sweat and blood."

"Okay." I got a bucket from the hot tub and turned around to see him watching me with his poker face stare as he slowly worked his belt loose with one hand. "Oh, for the Sunwell," I muttered and went to help him with it. He didn't move, except to let me take over, un-strapping the light leg armor and finishing loosening the belt and undoing the buttons on his fly.

I dropped down on my knees and unknotted the laces of his boots, helping him step out of them. He didn't say anything, but his eyes never left my face. I could feel his stare even when I wasn't looking. His skin was lightly tanned, still mostly free of the hair human males grow as they age. His body and legs were lithe as an elf's, as you would only expect of a rogue, and I felt myself getting hard, suddenly very aware of the musky scent of him.

There was an awkward pause as I looked up, but his eyes never changed, he didn't say a word, yes or no. Un-rebuked, I rose up a little on my knees, hooked my fingers into the top of his pants and drawers and gently eased them down. He shifted just enough to help release things and I quickly slid his clothes the rest of the way off.

His body saluted me, definitely interested. I knew I had an answering bulge I needed to shift, but took a quick moment to admire him. He was nicely proportioned; with the foreskin human males have intact. His erection was like a rosebud, complete with drop of dew. I wondered what he would taste like, met his eyes, and knew I was blushing bright red as any virgin.

I stood up hurriedly and in one of my less bright moments, kicked his gear out of the way and sluiced him down with the water bucket. Thoroughly embarrassed, I scooped another bucketful and rinsed his back, which at least let me break that unnerving stare. I nerved myself enough for filling one last bucket, grabbed a washcloth and tossed it in, then fled to one of the farther tubs myself, half expecting I'd feel his garrote on my neck and more than half-convinced I deserved it for taking liberties with him.

I kept my back to him in a decidedly non-roguish way, striped off my own clothes and plunged into a tub without bothering to rinse first. Maybe he'd just drown me.

I really needed find a way to talk to Richelle about humans and their mating habits without triggering her desire to show me in detail. Which was the wrong line of thought to follow, since I was already painfully hard.

I could hear him splashing and clattering around, then the soft squelch of wet footsteps. I allowed myself to shrink deeper into the tub. He crawled in with me, but blessedly neither looked at me nor tried to kill me.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, he asked me how I'd stolen the Alliance's battle flag and I relaxed enough to start telling him. Story finished with a pledge to keep me away from excessive alcohol and we both fell silent again, the tension between us somewhat diffused.

Of course, my body had other things in mind. It wasn't interested in relaxing as long as Stef was anywhere near me and I wasn't going to be able to do anything about it until I either fled the tub or Stef left. I really wanted to give in and make an advance, but my only knowledge of male humans and their approach to sex was from months in the Stockades. Bobby's murderous reputation and implied claim to Firesworn and I had kept us safe from rape until we could defend ourselves, but what I'd seen there I could only hope was not the standard for the race.

"Nightfrost?" Stef's voice was hesitant and he didn't use my working name unless we were somewhere private. I certainly wasn't sure the bathhouse qualified. "I heard Richelle and you talking."

_Maybe I should just drown myself. Perhaps the whole town had heard us. _

He continued, "I was still getting through the trees and I didn't want her to know I'd blundered into your private talk."

I just shut my eyes and thought about letting the water close over my head. He was fidgeting, splashing around and sounding like he was about as embarrassed as I was.

"I know you said you don't do casual sex outside your race, is that just not with women or not with men either?"

I looked up, knowing I had to look like a startled deer, and found he'd moved a lot closer than I'd realized.

He was staring at me again, but at least he kept talking.

"I've wanted to kiss you, Nightfrost. I want to know what you taste like and hold you when you know someone's there for you. I know you want someone else and Richelle wants you and . . . and maybe you want her, but . . ." the flatness went out of his stare, replaced by a hungry, almost equally frightening need. "Could we at least pretend? Just for a little while?"

"Oh, Stef. I didn't know, I wasn't sure. I don't have anything to offer you, my heart's confused as it is."

"You have yourself, you have this moment. Not for forever, just for now," he licked his lips, which looked dry as parchment. "Please, I need to know I'm still alive, that's there's something I can do besides killing. I can't run, I can't get away from it because of my stupid fucked up arm and the damn Defias in our woods and. . . and I want you so badly. Please? Please, Nightfrost, I'll do anything you want."

I silenced him with a kiss, exploring his mouth and tongue, the fresh springwater taste of him.

"I want a bed," I told him. "And I want you in it. I want to kiss away all the pain and fear and death and let you know I understand. I want to learn every inch of your body and what makes you cum and have you fall asleep exhausted in my arms and fall asleep with you and wake and fuck you all over again." I kissed his eyelids and cheek and mouth and lifted him out of the water, going hunting for towels. I don't know if he understood everything I said, but he understood enough.

It was warm; we just patted each other down, wrapped our towels around our waists and took our boots and our weapons. Then we skirted the long way to the guildhall, laughing together in the silent way of rogues, giddy as the first time I'd followed anyone to their room, stopping occasionally to taste each other's mouths and grope each other in promise. No one saw Stef and, because of Stef, no one saw me either.

We stopped inside the hall, caught our breaths just enough to lose them kissing again, then Stef led me upstairs.

The number of doors told me none of the upstairs rooms were large; Stef's maybe being twice as wide as the rest. He pulled me inside and shut the door, uncovering a mage light that revealed a desk and stool, a wardrobe, a messy pile of clothes, a mostly empty weapons rack, a shuttered window and a bed beneath it that took up most of the space between walls.

We kissed again and when we finally stopped there was nothing between us but air.

"I have . . . toys," he admitted. "And, I know I said I'd let you do anything, but please, don't tie me up."

"Don't worry," I told him. "I don't know if I could do that with someone who had _asked_ me to do it. Especially not the first time I was with them."

He looked at his toes and blushed. "This _is_ my first time."

"What? Ever?"

"No, I've had women or they've had me. But you're the first man I've ever dared ask."

That explained a lot. "Stef?" I kissed him again, gently, and almost chastely. "Are you sure?" I knew it wasn't a good time to think of asking, but at least I did remember to ask.

"I heard what you said to Richelle. And I'm sure you won't rape me and boast about it to everyone. I've given you lots of opportunities if you wanted me like that."

"Who hurt you, Stef?" I wasn't sure why I knew, maybe his odd wording, but I just knew.

I wasn't expecting an answer either, but he told me anyway. "Lesba's She-tigers. I was fourteen."

I'd heard of them. They had a reputation even among the Horde. They were distinctly not the way you wanted to be introduced to sex.

He continued, "They drugged us, and used us. They killed one of the other boys and then most of them left. Shaw was looking for something they had. He found the ones who'd fallen asleep with my wires on their throats. He stopped me before I did for myself." He lifted his head and, while I'd seen the fine scars on his throat, I hadn't known they'd been self-inflicted. "I've been with SI-7 ever since. I'm Shaw's choice when he needs one of them done. Part of his deal with me." His eyes were taking on a worrisome glaze.

"Stef?" He was starting to scare me.

He laughed, shakily, blinking the glaze away. "Assassins. You've lived with Bobby. You know we're not quite right. Please, Nightfrost, make it all go away."

I wasn't sure anyone could do that for him, short of Death. I wasn't quite sure that wasn't what he was really asking me for, either. It helped me settle my thoughts, keep a rein on the lust he'd awoken in me

"Thank you for telling me, Stef, I know that wasn't easy to admit. I'm going to take things slowly and try to let you control as much as possible. If it starts to hurt or I do something that scares you, tell me. Or give a good tug on my hair. "

"I want fucked 'til I can't think anymore," he said and kissed me again, hands tightening across my back, demanding. He moaned, but it wasn't just from want, I felt his body wince, his shoulder protesting.

"Gently, gently, Stef. You had a bad start with sex; I want to show you how good it can be. And I don't want to hurt your shoulder anymore." I started kissing his neck and backing him over to the bed. Apparently no one had ever touched him there before, except to cause pain, he melted against me with a startled gasp, so I just scooped him up and lay him in the bed. I stretched out beside him, rolled onto my side and slid a leg between his, recapturing his mouth, then returning to his ear before I eased a hand down his chest and belly to his groin and took him into my hand. I had to be careful to keep my weight off his injured shoulder, but it wasn't that difficult.

"You've had a hand job before?" He made a noise I took for yes, but might have been no. "Put your hand around mine, show me how you like it." He wasn't hesitant about doing that at all.

I let some of my attention drift back to his ear and neck, marking his throat with my lips and tongue and teeth, flicking my tongue around and into his ear. He bucked into our hands, the wetness of his precum giving way to a flood of seed. "Ahhhh!" he moaned, trying to keep quiet, so the rest of his team didn't hear their leader cumming.

I released his ear, shifted and captured the tip of him with my mouth. He gave a muffled scream and convulsed, draining himself totally as his body shuddered with the second, fuller release. I think I would have licked him clean, bitter precum mixed with lemon, but he shook under my tongue, and laced his messy fingers through my hair and pulled. He was panting, but managed to gasp, "Nightfrost, please, its too much."

"I've stopped," I told him. "I won't touch you until you ask me."

"Okay," he said shakily, still twitching occasionally.

I distracted myself by cleaning my hand, watching his eyelids flutter as his exhaustion caught up with him.

Knowing I had to keep my promise not to touch him until he gave me permission, I turned my attention to giving myself a bit of release. His hair in the dimness of the room was just enough like Firesworn's to let me pretend it was my cropped-eared friend sleeping there.

But when I'd brought myself over the edge, it was Stef's name I whispered.

* * *

Please review. Let me know if you'd like more, just remember this is an alternate to what I'm doing in Rogue Magick. Stef doesn't get the boy there. Then again, his encounter with Lesba's She-Tigers was in the guise of avenging a friend's death in the 'normal' timeline. - R. macDhai


	2. Interlude

**Another Game of Tag: Nightfrost and Stef**

**By Rillan macDhai**

Chapter 2: Interlude

Interlude, because hygiene is important. Minor Smut Warning! This is an AU story to Rogue Magick,becauseNightfrost has enough love entanglements in Part Two as it is. Thanks to Nyxe for coming up with "samer" as a term for gay pairings. I don't know if its original to that writer, but that's where I saw it first. And a revelation of gnome kink.

Our cast:

Stef, human, blue eyed, ash brown hair (not as light as Firesworn's bleaches to on the ends), around 5'5" (of a height with Nightfrost)

Sky Nightfrost, blood elf, blue eyed (makes him look like a high elf), black hair growing out to dark brown with rust overlay that will give him red highlights as it sun bleaches.

* * *

Knowing how much I hate someone being near me when I first wake up after being hurt, I didn't think I should crawl in bed with him, tempting though it was as I watched him relaxed in sleep. Instead I reclaimed a towel, found his weapons' cleaning kit and began working on my knives, my back against the door, which I'd also latched, though in a house full of SI-7 that was more a request for privacy than a way to keep anyone out.

* * *

Stef awoke to the comforting, familiar sound of metal being stroked against a whetstone, sunlight a warm glow through the covering he kept over his window, the uncovered magelight he'd bought in Stormwind illuminating his room. His bladder was just full enough to have started complaining and he'd had another one of his 'interesting' dreams, this one fully detailed from the stickiness on his hand. He shivered deliciously, mind replaying the fantasy of the touch of another's hands and lips.

His shoulder twinged, reminding him not all of it had been fantasy. He'd come close to dying in this latest run-in with the Defias, one of his targets strong enough to have thrown him around like a child's toy in a tantrum, almost breaking his shoulder before the wires had finally bit deep enough to change the outcome fully in Stef's favor. The dream had helped him pass that bit of horror, drop it safely into the category of 'things I've survived.' Stef didn't have the normal young man's view of himself as immortal; that illusion had been striped from him one night when he was barely fourteen.

Shifting, he pushed himself up with his good arm, rolling easily off the bed to land lightly, but with a soft yip of pain, his body letting him know of every scratch, bruise and strained muscle. Overriding it all was his shoulder, the damaged tendons and ligaments and such still very much aware of their violent wrenching, both out and back into their proper alignment. Said return had been done courtesy of the elven rogue Sky Nightfrost, the same rogue who'd figured prominently in Stef's recent fantasy; the same rogue who was sitting against Stef's door wearing nothing but a towel, a sobering array of knives fanned out on the floor beside him as he perfected the edge on a throwing blade.

Sky's hair was free from the usual tail he wore it in, falling uncombed in a tangle of locks across his shoulders. He glanced up through a fringe of hair, blue eyes and a fond smile transforming his sharp-boned triangular face into something approaching beauty. He was very thin, lean muscle over long, delicate-seeming bone, though not as starved-looking as he had been when Stef had first really looked at him, a pathetically fragile figure determinedly doing battle with Grandmamma's woodpile. Then he had been all huge eyes and stick-thin limbs, pale and wasted from a long illness brought on by overexertion and months of being slowly starved both for food and for the arcane energy from which his kind also drew sustenance. And he'd moved with a wounded grace that hinted at skill he'd once commanded, something that had touched Stef to sympathy just in watching him trying to compensate for what he'd lost. Now he was still painfully lean, but it was more akin to the thinness of a coursing hound or a racehorse, there was some padding over his sharp bones and definition to the muscle. Stef could attest to his strength and growing endurance and the slow reclaiming of his skill.

And somewhere, sometime during one of their nightly runs, if not, as Stef had not yet admitted to himself, during those terrible few moments in the upstairs hall of the House of Purple Hyacinths, when an agent of the king had identified Sky as Nightfrost the bloodelven rogue wanted both as a spy and for a long series of crimes again the Alliance army in Northrend or even earlier, when the elf was still prone to collapse in exhaustion in inconvenient places, the human rogue had begun fantasizing about what it would be like to lay with him.

He'd fought against it, leery of any sexual encounters after his first introduction, disturbed by the attraction he felt for the sometimes feminine-appearing but decidedly male elf who had the added problem of being a member of one of the Alliance's opposing factions. Then, hurt and stressed from killing, he'd blundered into the edge of a very personal conversation between Sky and Richelle and unexpectedly been given a question to which he had to find the answer. He'd wanted so very much and Sky had returned that want with unmistakable desire in his eyes, only to retreat so suddenly Stef had wondered if he'd imagined it all. He wasn't sure what was real beyond that moment.

"You're here," he said. "Or am I still dreaming?"

"I'm here, Stef," Nightfrost said. He set aside the blade and whetstone and stood, towel not even an afterthought. Blue eyes on Stef's, he ghosted across the space between them. "May I?" he asked, voice low and husky with desire, his body already responding to Stef's nearness.

Belatedly, Stef remembered the promise the elf had made not to touch him until he asked. "Oh, please, yes," he said, closing the last distance, Nightfrost's arms gently around him, hungry mouth meeting his before escaping to his throat, kissing from jaw to the hollow at its base.

"I want to continue what we started," the elf whispered.

"So do I, but I really need to relieve myself first," Stef admitted with a faintly embarrassed twist to his lips.

"That would be a good idea, given what I'm planning," the elven rogue smiled wickedly. "I didn't want to go exploring your safe house without you."

"Bathroom then," said Stef, pausing to taste the other before picking his way through the knives decorating his floor and unlocking the door.

"You might want this," Nightfrost said, handing him a towel.

Laughing almost silently, they slipped out of the room.

* * *

_Gods of night and sweet Lady Sun, he's beautiful_, I thought. Sleep-touseled and off-guard, Stef looked deceptively innocent, his limber body greeting me with morning wood, his eyes still pain- and sleep-dazed, blinking, his expression telling me more clearly than his words he wasn't certain if I were truly there or simply an apparition of his desire. He was certainly one of mine, or rather, had become so unexpectedly with his confession of lust a few hours earlier.

I'd been trying to keep from following up on the odd hints he'd been giving me, not sure I was reading a human's desires correctly, trying to keep our friendship intact in the mounting pressure of both Richelle's persistent attempts to corner me and his own strange undecipherable stares. Months of self-enforced abstinence around first Firesworn and then my host's granddaughter had left me all too acquainted with what pleasure and release I could give myself. I wanted a bedpartner, not just to hold another body in my arms – I'd done that enough with Firesworn we'd both grow cranky with desire we knew was too dangerous to express in the Stockades. I wanted someone I could share myself with, to explore and taste and fuck or be fucked by, until the little voice of despair and fear I'd carried with me from that prison was finally silenced.

We took care of our necessities and cleaned up. I had thorough approval of what the humans called water closets and this one had a pump and basin along with the raised pot. I'd been sick long enough to willingly revise my entire opinion of dwarves and gnomes based solely on the invention of plumbing. I'd no doubt the details of construction and keeping it working were messy, but it was intriguing to see what they'd accomplished without magick. It gave me hope my people could learn to manage our use of magick more efficiently, if someone could ever convince the magisters to let us. I'd seen them manipulate the Farstriders and the priests … but I really wasn't interest in contemplating what we could or couldn't do toward improving Silvermoon's city water problems when Stef was so close.

I was almost inclined to just follow our cleanup by taking him right there. But a gentle rap at the door reminded me we had housemates who might also want access to the room. Stef gave a sheepish grin and opened the door.

"Hiya boss," said a high cheerful voice. "Was wondering if you'd fallen in – "

Then the speaker saw me.

The green haired gnome rogue studied both of us. An even bigger grin spread across her face. "Hot damn, it's about time you got laid."

Stef blushed bright red. I slipped a protective and restraining arm across his belly. "I'm sure the whole house will know soon enough. Please?"

"Oh, damn right they will. We've had a bet going since a week after he was assigned here." She was clearly delighted with the situation.

"Oh, fuck," said Stef.

"Don't worry, boss. I knew you'd never hit on one of your command. Have to say; I thought it would be a girl though. Didn't think you were into samer pairings."

She grinned up at me. "I have to say, you're damn pretty to look at for a tall one. Don't supposed you'd consider a trip through the Reconboobulator? You and Stef would make lovely little rogue babies."

"What?" I didn't know whether to be horrified or simply frightened.

"I don't even want to know," said Stef. "Go away. Go far away. In fact, go take far watch and leave us the fuck alone, Sylvi."

"Ah, throwing your weight around, are you boss? Well, I'll get right on that, _if _you could move out of the doorway?"

"Oh! Certainly. Any time."

We shuffled out of her way and she scooted into the room, slamming the door shut behind her, but it did little to block the gales of laughter coming from behind it.

"Well, that ruined the mood."

I slipped my other arm around him and pressed myself against his back. "Not necessarily," I said and kissed his neck just below and behind his ear. He shivered all over and melted against me, head thrown back and pressed against mine as he squirmed and stretched in pleasure.

"Bedroom," he managed to gasp out.

With a final sucking kiss that marked his neck, I gathered him into my arms and carried him to bed. Never mind I almost tripped when he returned the favor, his lips and tongue warm and thrilling on the base of my throat.


	3. Chapter 2

Another Game of Tag: Nightfrost and Stef

By Rillan macDhai

Chapter 3: Tastes

More guy/guy sex, and no lengthy lead in to it this time. Smut Warning! This is an AU story to Rogue Magick & RM: the Return of Nightfrostbut ideas from it are already cross-pollinating my other stories. If Blizzard doesn't hire me, this will probably become part of the main story, because_ . . . well, just because there's not enough sex in most fantasy stories. _This one is for draft finally finished 9/21/10

Line Break

I kicked the door shut and slid between the fanned out knives I'd left on the floor before carefully setting Stef back down. He'd fastened himself to my throat like a vampire and the touch of his lips and tongue was almost enough to drop me to my knees. For the moment I was content to let him ravage my neck, but once he was standing again a hand stroked down my body and began caressing my cock. It was all too interested in what he was doing to let me think clearly.

As I began leaking, wetting his fingers with my precum he released my throat with a final lick that sent a shudder of pleasure through me. "I want to taste you, Nightfrost, all of you," he said huskily, sliding his hand back to cup my balls.

"I'm not going to say no to that," I told him; he already had me needing deep breaths. "You know the precum's bitter, right?"

He gave me a shy, rather relieved smile. "I knew mine was," he said. He ducked his head and licked my tip once quickly.

"Belore! Blessed Light, Stef, let me sit down so I don't fall on you."

"Just a moment before you do."

He sidled around me and started to lift his mattress.

"I'll get that," I told him, grabbing it before he overstressed his arm. "You have to be hurting, no sense in making it worse."

He laughed. "I'm too damn horny to care right now." He pulled a handful of items out of a drawer hidden under the mattress and got back out of my way. Once I'd perched on the edge of his bed, he spread them out beside me. One was a vial of oil. Another was a sort of mitten, furred on one side, soft velvet on the other. The last was a slender rod, too thick for a wand, though I could feel magick pooled within it.

While I'd examined his choices, he'd knelt and now gently pushed my legs apart. "Same rules," he said. "If I do something that hurts, let me know. Just try not to kick me in my bad shoulder."

"Don't bite me and I won't kick you," I told him.

"I'll try not to," and then he took me into his mouth. I shivered again, my breath catching hard as he sucked me deep. Within moments he had me stifling exclamations. If he'd not told me he'd never done this before, I'd have never believed it. As it was, I wasn't sure I believed it. I came, mostly dry, but my body was determined to give him everything it could.

"Fuck me, Stef?" I was shivering and his eyes were wide and surprised.

"You want me to …?"

I had to close my eyes. "It's about you being in control, Stef. I want you inside me," my body shuddered just saying the words aloud, "but you need to tell me what you want."

His lips were parted as he took deep breaths, his expression almost glazed with arousal and want. "You," he whispered. "But I think I'll need to try it from behind. Roll over."

I turned and positioned myself for him.

He stroked my back and ass and thighs, exploring, occasionally kissing me lightly. Then he paused, until I looked back, impatient for a deeper touch and saw him with his dark gold lashes veiling his eyes as he anointed himself with oil. He caught me looking and smiled shyly, somewhere between embarrassed and lustful. His cock rose from the patch of golden hair around it, long and beautiful, like a rosebud itself as the tip peeked from his foreskin.

He slipped a finger inside before I expected it, probing, exploring me. I caught my breath at the sudden entrance, willing my body to relax from its instinctive tightening around him.

"More?" he asked and I nodded yes, unable to speak, stricken by the sheer beauty of him and the want that griped me. He slipped another finger inside, stretching me, readying me for his entrance. Teasing just a bit, but I could feel his body heat as he stepped nearer; feel the occasional bump of his cock against me.

"I don't want to hurt you, Night," he said, "but I can't wait any longer." He removed his fingers and then was pushing inside me, all the lovely length of him. I hadn't quite accounted for the foreskin, it made him thicker than I'd expected and for a moment I wasn't certain I could take him in me that way. It hurt, there was nothing else to describe it, but he did it slowly and held himself still, letting me adjust to the feel of him inside. Nothing felt like it tore. Then, he began to move and pleasure walked the fine line with pain, until there was nothing but Stef and our bodies, together, moving with one another. He had all the enthusiasm of the teenager he still nearly was, tempered only by the pain of his shoulder. If I would have preferred a woman most times… well, this wasn't most times, it was Stef's first time, and later that day… or night, it was his second and his third. He was eager and my body was willing to mold itself against him, and it all was very, very good.

Later, after I'd cleaned him and tucked him under blankets, I dressed and went out. Or started to, but had to pause and bring in the tray of covered dishes that had been left at the door. Someone had made sandwiches and soup and after I check them for anything obvious – just in case that someone was feeling tricky – I wolfed down a couple and drained one of the bowls before leaving the rest for Stef and going in search of whoever was acting as the night master for this little SI-7 guild.


End file.
